


way with words

by protectmichaelmell



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, Max is fifteen, New York City AU, Not Maxvid dont even go there, gwenvid - Freeform, playwright! gwen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 18:51:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16181084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/protectmichaelmell/pseuds/protectmichaelmell
Summary: Gwen is a struggling playwright who just moved from Chicago to New York City. She abandoned her whole life just to get away from all the problems that followed her.She was ready to give up completely.But when she meets her next-door neighbor and her son, suddenly her perspective on life changes for the better.





	way with words

**Author's Note:**

> hi everyone i really love this story so i hope u guys enjoy it as much as i do!

It makes me so annoyed that there are seven billion people on the planet. Only so many people will be remembered, you know? Also, I despise the idea of one life. There is only so many things someone gets to do and only 32,850 days alive doesn’t quite please me. 

I needed a fresh start. I needed to get out of Chicago. I had to leave behind Jonah and my old job. Everything in my past seemed so pointless and unnecessary. It was either moving or killing myself, but death scares me. 

New York City seemed perfect. It was 789.4 miles away, which was perfect for me. My family didn’t care. They stared at me, and then decided it might be for the best. I received hesitant hugs, and was on my way. 

It was twelve-hour drive, but I was alright with it. It gave me some time to figure out what I was doing, and how stupid I was for doing it. The GPS was constantly rerouting for six hours, but was cut off when“Anna” popped on my phone screen.

Anna was my closest friend in Chicago. We met in College, and shared an inner city apartment. I felt the guilty rise up my spine when I remembered I never told her I was leaving. Shit.

“Gwen, where the fuck are you? All your shit is gone, and you didn't leave a note or anything.” I tapped on the steering wheel, anxiety rising. “Are you in a fucking car? At 2:30 in morning.” Anna yelled.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Ann. I’m moving. To New York City.” There was only silence on the other line. “Don’t fucking “Ann” me right now. This is really shitty, even for your standards. Does Jonah know?” I bit her lip. “Jonah and I are done.”

Anna sighed. “Look. I’m sorry your faulty little play didn’t work out.” My mouth dropped. All the anxiety that I was having quickly turned to anger. “Excuse me? That play was my heart and soul! I worked for three years on that! That play was my life!” Anna let out a fake laugh.

“That’s probably was why it was so terrible.” I felt the hot tears beginning to brim her eyes. “Don’t even fucking call me again. I’m never coming back to Chicago. Good luck being on Broadway.” I spat, tears running down both of my cheeks. “Yeah, which probably won’t happen with your trash show on my resumé.” 

“Take it off then!” I screamed, causing my car to swerve a little. “It’s not like your even good at acting! Go get a real job!” Anna laughed again into the phone. “I’m not the one moving to New York to become a playwright!” I hung up the phone, and the directions on my phone returned. 

I missed eight turns, adding almost another hour to my trip. I pulled over on the side of the road. I had no clue what state I was in, but it seemed like the middle of nowhere. I looked at myself in rear-view mirrors, watching the tears just glide down my face.

I turned to my backpack, and grabbed out a torn up and scribbled on script. “Beloved You; A Play by Gwen Berrio” was typed evenly in courier new. I dug deeper and grabbed my lighter. I got out of my car, and saw there was a dry patch with dead creosote bush on it next to me. 

I tossed the pile of now worthless pages on the dry patch and felt more tears leave my eyes. I lit the creosote on fire, and eventually the play lit up in flames. I was speechless, watching everything I had loved and put my life into burn.

It was some kind of fucked up metaphor, I guess. A metaphor for Chicago, for the life I left behind. For the bridge I burnt with Anna, or the relationship with Jonah I destroyed. Everything was on fire, and I was the only person to put it out. 

I got in my car and drove away, watching the fire slowly disappear.

-

I arrived in New York City at 8:00 in the morning. Since it was a monday, the traffic was terrifying. Everyone was already on their commute to work, and the busy manhattan streets was packed. 

I had only been to New York a few times as a child. Before my abuela passed away, we would always come and see shows on my birthday or stay a week during the holidays. She got diagnosed with lung cancer after my fifteenth birthday. That was our final trip.

Time Square was as obnoxious as always, with all the bright lights and smell of hot garbage. I still loved it though, it made me feel weirdly safe. I looked out my car window to see all the busy civilians trying to rush to work without being late. They all seemed so serious, so contempt with their lives. 

When I found the apartment I wanted, I didn’t expect it to be so rundown looking. The bricks had moss on them and was graffiti lettering on the white balconies. It was the only thing I could afford, so it would just have to do for now.

I walked in the lobby to see kids rushing to school catch their school buses and whoever wasn't at work rushing to their jobs. I walked to the front desk to see a man looking at the old computer in front of him. “Hello.” I mumbled, trying to front my best smile.

He stared me up and down, and looked back to the screen. “Theater district in four blocks up.” I laughed, biting my lip. I could taste the metallic blood. “No, I’m looking to just get my key. I’m moving in here. Last name “Berrio”?” 

The man hit the keyboard a few times, and a small ‘ding’ could be heard. “Okay, Gwen. I’ll need to see I.D and registration.” I opened the front zipper of my backpack and handed him my information. “I have the confirmation email, also. If you need that.”

He gruffly laughed. “You’re okay.” He handed me the key that had a red tag that read “2-R, ninth floor”. “Thank you so much! Your name is-” I stuck my hand to shake it but he just waved. “Reggie.” 

I walked to the elevator and hit the ‘up’ button. I waited for a moment, and smiled to myself. I can’t believe I was doing this. I needed to find a small job for now, write a new show and then pitch it! I wanted to make myself believe that was how Broadway works. I knew that it was much harder than that.

The door opened, and some kid holding a skateboard came running out of the elevator. He hit the box I had tucked under my arm, and all the contents ended up on the elevator floor. “Hey, what’s wrong with you?!” I yelled, as the kid let out a sharp laugh. “What’s wrong with you!” 

I felt the anger raging inside me, all of my other emotions fading. “Maxwell, apologize.” Reggie scolded, not even looking up from him computer. I looked over and saw that he was just playing solitaire. The kid stopped at the door and groaned. “It’s not ‘Maxwell’, Reg. Just Max.” Reggie rolled his eyes.

“I know. Apologize. It would be so tragic if your father found out, wouldn't it?” I kept my foot in the elevator so it wouldn’t close, watching this kid roll his eyes. “Fine, sorry. I’m gonna be late for school now, so you should be the one apologizing.” He disappeared out the door and I ended up balancing the box on my suitcase.

“Gwen, I like you. You seem okay. Come here real quick. I don’t wanna hold you back, though.” I exited the elevator, watching it’s doors re close again. “You aren’t holding me back at all.” Reggie let out a deep chuckle.

“I’ve owned this apartment building for 35 years. I’ve seen some crazy people come in and out. Let me guess, you’re a failed playwright from San Diego coming to the city to produce a show.” I stared at the floor. “Chicago.”

“Do you know who Lynn Nottage is?” He asked as I felt my eyes glisten. “Yes, of course! Sweat is one of my favorite plays.” Reggie smiled. “She stayed here when she first moved here, too.” I felt my spirits rise a litte. 

He handed me a brochure. “Here are some good cheap places for food.” I felt another smiles spread across my cheeks. “Thank you so much.” Reggie sighed. “Your eyes remind me of my wife. She had the same violet eyes as you.” I pulled at the bottom of my shirt. “They’re so weird. No one has purple eyes.”

Reggie handed her another piece of paper. “Here is my desk phone number. Call me if you ever need anything.” I nodded, putting the paper in my box. “Who was that kid, by the way?” Reggie raised his eyebrows. “That’s Max. He lives here with his father. He’s a good kid, just he had it pretty rough before he met David. Max is quite rough around the edges.” I gave him a confused look.

“Is that his boyfriend or his like big brother sponsor?” Reggie shook his head. “David is his father. His adoptive father. He’s a very nice guy. I think he’s on your floor actually.” Gwen pinched her lips.

“Great, I still have to bring more stuff in my car. I’ll be back-” Reggie pointed at the luggage rack hidden behind a tattered couch. “Here. Someone stole this from a hotel in Times Square and we just never returned it.” I was a little taken aback that a resident had stolen it, but I needed to bring all my stuff up.

“You’re the greatest, Reggie.” He gave me one last smile, and then looked back down at his computer. I went out to my car and stacked at the awfully put together boxes on top of each other. I wouldn’t be surprised if they all caved on each other, as I made them 9 o’clock at night while sobbing my eyes. This was it. I thought, walking the rack back into the building.

Reggie just waved at me as I got into the elevator. I saw a shiny gold object out of the corner of my eye. It was a gold locket with g&j engraved on it. I knew whose picture was inside. So I picked it up and when the elevator door opened, I slid it through the small crack.

I rolled the luggage rack down the hall and took a deep breath. I was really gone from Chicago, wasn’t I? I thought, finally reaching a door that read “2-R.” I reached in my back pocket to pull out the keys, but grabbed a few loose cigarettes out inside. I groaned, and eventually found the small key.

I promised myself when I left I would quit smoking once I got to New York. I didn’t started doing it until I started producing “Beloved You” as some kind of stress relief. It just ended up stressing me out more. 

I opened the door and stared around my room. It wasn’t that bad compared to the outside. There was a bedroom, a bathroom and a small kitchen. It was cute and small, which was fine with me. I rolled the luggage rack in, and locked the door behind me. 

I looked around the room again and felt tears leave my eyes. It all of the sudden just hit me. I was doing it. I was really starting over. I sat on one of the chairs at the small table and just put my face in my hands. I turned to my backpack and grabbed my speaker out. I thought music would be a way to soften the dense pressure in the room right now. 

I sighed and pulled my phone out of my jacket pocket. There were many missed messages from my manager and other friends I knew in Chicago, but I figured out it was the best for myself to ignore them. I turned on my “how do you admit that you’re falling apart” playlist and started to unpack some of the boxes.

I looked out the window and looked across the city before me. It was kinda beautiful. The way the building were aligned looked amazing. My daze was cut off when I heard a knock on my door. I thought it was probably just Reggie asking for the luggage rack.

I opened the door to see someone that was not Reggie. “Hi! You must be new. I was just wondering if you could turn your music down a little bit? I have to figure some stuff out for work right now and all the noise in kind of interfering!” I studied his face for a second. Auburn hair and green eyes. Weird.

“Shouldn't you be at work?” I felt rude asking but what else was I going to say. He scoffed at her. “I’m a lighting technician. I work at the music box.” I leaned against the door frame and nodded. “Oh, cool. So you just flash a huge flashlight around?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Um, no. It’s way more complicated than that. So, just keep your music down, please?”

I laughed and rolled my eyes. “Got it.” I began to close the door and he stuck his hand in. “I have a feeling like you’re not going to.” I shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe.” I picked the chipped white paint on the door. “I’m David.” 

“Hey! Your kid is Max, right?” David started reaching for his wallet. “God, did he already break your stuff? Here, how much was it?” I felt bad for him, he even knows his kid is a mess. “No, I just saw him in the lobby this morning. He knocked a box over but it was fine. Nothing bad.” I saw David let out a sigh of relief.

“Okay, great. So I guess I’ll see you around?” He asked as I solemnly nodded.

“See you around.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading! leave some comments about the story if u like! comments r also quite appreciated. thank u!


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